Aftermath of hate
by Xeno the Hedgehog
Summary: Movieverse, references G1. What happened to Bonecrusher after his onscreen Battle with Optimus? Follow the hateful Decepticon down the road to recovery.


The release of the 6th TF movie comic from Titan Magazine contradicted what I had planned to write for Origin of Hate, so I'm submitting what would have been the last chapter of OoH as a separate fic. Enjoy, and join the effort to convince Hasbro to make a Voyager/Leader class Bonecrusher Figure!

**Aftermath of Hate**

I don't know how long I was in that state, drifting in and out of stasis. When I finally managed to stay online, all I could feel was pain; excruciating, processor-freezing, agonizing _PAIN_!!! I hated it, I hated it more than I had ever hated anything before, and if I could have, I would have screamed my spark out.

Eventually, my internal repair systems dulled the pain just enough that I could begin to find my grip on reality. When my vision finally stopped swimming, I was reminded of the damage to my left optic, and hoped that it wasn't permanent. I hated that I couldn't see anything to my left, I hated the loss of my depth perception.

After…I don't remember how long, it slowly donned on me that something wasn't right; something _really_ important. I remembered that Prime had severed my right arm, but then why would the rest of my body be numb? Running a diagnostic, I found myself almost wishing that I _had_ died. I couldn't feel anything from the neck down, because I didn't _have_ anything from the neck down! That was it, I couldn't take it anymore! I was beside myself, and my motionless body just seemed to further mock me as it lie motionless on the ground! I wanted to throw a tantrum, smash everything that crossed my path, vocalize my rage and anguish! But I was incapable of doing any of those things, so I had to settle for crying silently. When I finally stopped, I realized that night had fallen. Perhaps more surprising, I could detect no sign of the surface transport vehicles, or the organic life forms that piloted them. I wondered if my _comrades_ were searching for me, not that they'd go that far out of their way. Tapping into a radio-frequency, I caught snippets of a human news report.

"…_-is just i-……-ant me-…-nichal m-…-sters attacked Mission Ci-…-s morning have been apprehended. In our darkest hour, th-………-calling themselves "Autobots", came to h-…-anity's rescue. The leader of these robotic rescuers, Optimus Prime, had this to say_," The reporter's voice was quickly replaced by that of the Autobot Leader.

"For eons, this war has raged on. Many sparks were extinguished, Autobot and Decepticon. The All Spark, which once gave life to the inhabitants of Cybertron, has been destroyed; all hope for our planet's survival has been lost. I regret that our war has extended to this world, and we will forever honor those who lost their lives in the struggle. It is thanks to these brave human soldiers that our war has finally come to an end. Megatron is dead, and his reign of terror will no longer threaten innocent lives…"

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. Megatron was dead. And if Megatron was dead, then that meant…I was free. I was _finally_ FREE! I would have jumped for joy if I were able to do so. I continued to monitor the report, as they began listing the casualties.

"…many of the transforming robots that attacked the city have been destroyed; a helicopter and a tank among them." This was getting better and better! I cherished the realization that I would never have to see those rustbuckets again! Wreckage; wrecked. Brawl; devastated. Blackout; blacked out. And best of all, Megatron was finally gone! Then they spoke of the storm cloud to which my silver lining belonged. "…However, others are still at large; the rogue fighter jet and police car have not been accounted for…" Of all the slaggers to survive, why did Starscream have to be one of them?! "we've also received claims of a 'living X-box 360' and a 'demonic soda machine'; a particularly hysterical caller even claimed to have been attacked by her vehicle's steering wheel." I didn't know what was going on, but one thing was certain; if Starscream was alive, he would search for other survivors and proclaim himself the Decepticons' new leader. If he couldn't recruit me, he would probably destroy me, and I certainly wasn't about to put myself in that position again! I hated him and nothing would change that!

Reconfiguring what few usable parts I had left, I extended a crude, and extremely weak, limb from the back of my head, and slowly, painfully, dragged myself across the ground; I hated every nanoclick. Despite the severity of the damage, my body was in surprisingly good shape, save for the severed arm and the stump where my head once resided. The next complication soon became apparent; climbing up to my neck would be impossible with the pitiful appendage I had created. I hated the limitations that I was forced to work with. Looking around, I spotted the pieces of my face that had become dislodged. If I could just reconnect them, I would have more parts to work with, and make a stronger appendage.

I spent several megacycles gathering the pieces that littered the ground; the ones that I could find, anyway. In order to reconnect them, I had to retract my pitiful appendage, as its materials were needed elsewhere. I hate making inconvenient sacrifices. When I finished what few repairs I could, I was able to produce a slightly stronger appendage. I decided to split the limb in two, and curled them into hooks. This made it a little easier to drag myself back to my body, but it still took a good portion of the night to make my way up, especially with how easily I lost my grip and fell to the ground. During one attempt, I learned that my left optic was indeed still attached; one of the hooks had snagged the fibers that held it on, and I'm still amazed that they weren't severed when I fell. Eventually, I did manage to reach the stump of my neck, where I began the slow and agonizing process of reuniting my head and body. It was just as painful as when I had first regained

By morning, my only reassurance was that I no longer needed the pitiful limbs to hold my head in place. I thought I heard something in the distance at one point, but it left just as quickly as it had arrived. It surprised me that nothing had found me yet. By midday, the repairs had progressed to a degree where the numbness had begun to fade from random areas, and I could even make certain parts twitch and tense. I continued repairing myself for the remainder of the day, and by nightfall, I was so exhausted that I went into stasis to recharge.

When I came online the next morning, I was surprised to discover that a gentle mist had blanketed the area, droplets of moisture condensing on everything it touched, including my body. Despite how few of my touch sensors were operational, I found the sensation rather…enjoyable. As I continued to take in my surroundings, using only my right optic to avoid undoing the repairs I had worked so hard on, I discovered one of the planet's indigenous life forms resting on my abdomen. It was long, slender, and flexible, made obvious by its loosely coiled position, its tail was tipped with a series of reinforced segments, and it was using a forked probe on the front of its face to collect the droplets that gathered on its body. What really fascinated me about this creature was what it didn't have; I could see no limbs of any kind, it didn't even have lubrication panels on its optics, yet it somehow managed to make its way atop my body. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I was grateful for the company. I continued to repair myself, and was even able to clench my fist with some difficulty. Unfortunately, the sinuous creature did not take kindly to the disturbance; it turned its head to face my semi-usable hand, and began shaking the segments on its tail, producing a loud rattling noise. The mist had dissipated, and now that the sun cast its light unopposed, I began to notice the increase in the surrounding temperature. Apparently, my organic companion did as well, and I watched as it slithered toward my face, the forked appendage flicking out from time to time. Despite my admiration for the creature, I noticed that it was venturing dangerously closed to my damaged optic. I quickly hastened the repairs to my neck, hoping I could at least swing the damaged sensor out of reach if necessary. Inevitably, it focused its attention right where I didn't want it to and I almost flinched when the probe made contact with my optic. Fortunately, the creature then continued slithering past, and made its way along my tail, dismounting at the tip and disappearing around the support column.

By midday I had finally finished the structural repairs to my neck. I hated being immobile, and my frustration was only increased when I found that my limbs were slow to respond. It would take several more days to get back on my feet, and someone could show up looking for me at any moment, be they organic or Cybertronian. The first day, I devoted all of my attention to working the motility back into my remaining arm. By the second day, I had almost completely regained use of the limb, and began to focus on moving my legs. After two more days of exercising the three limbs, I allowed myself to recharge for the night. When I awoke I spent half the day moving my arm and legs, and started on my tail. After a full week had passed, I attempted to lift myself into a sitting position. I eventually succeeded, using my tail for support, and began scanning the area for my missing right arm. I don't know if I was more surprised or relieved that I hadn't been found yet, but I still wanted to get moving as soon as possible. I eventually spotted the limb, but it was out of reach, and I wasn't strong enough to get up yet. I hated that I was recovering at such a slow rate.

Another day passed, and I eventually managed to shift my body so that I was lying on my front and could snag the arm with my tail. I had regained enough strength to crawl, and dragged myself away from the highway; the wheels on my knees made the task a bit easier, but because I still hated it, especially because the repairs to my neck had been crude, at best. After several megacycles of crawling south, I found a small body of water surrounded by vegetation. Making sure that nobody was around I awkwardly positioned my tail so that it could hold the limb in place, leaving my good arm free to reattach it. Prime's blade had done such a number on the appendage that I couldn't adequately repair it, and so had to settle for making sure it could at least remain in place without the aid of my tail. After another night of recharge, I continued my repairs, and was eventually able to work some movement back into it, though it was still useless. It was at this point that I decided to try standing again. Locking my wheels in place, I spent the better part of a day attempting to stand, and finally succeeded after two more days. I wasted no time relearning to walk, using a tree to support my weight until I could regain my balance, and continued South. Eventually, I worked enough movement back into my arm that I could use it, albeit clumsily. After a month, I could stagger along without the aid of the tree, and my arm was just mobile enough that I could grab lightweight objects with it.

I made an effort to avoid heavily populated areas, and when I reached the southern border of Nevada, I stopped to make some final repairs. When I finally managed to pop my optic back in, I slumped to the ground, relieved that the worst of the pain had past. I allowed my internal repair systems a full day to secure it in place. To this day I can only see a faint blur through that optic. When I awoke, I came to a rather embarrassing realization; I could run from one end of the planet to the next, but my former _comrades_ could still track my locater beacon; I wasted no time removing the beacon and crushing it to powder. I did the same with my comlink, just for good measure; Megatron would rise from the dead and join the Autobots before I allowed a Decepticon to find me. As I attempted to cross the border into California, I heard a human scream. I couldn't waste time hiding any longer, and if their military showed up, I'd be in trouble; I'd heard about their sabot rounds, and how easily they could melt through Decepticon armor plating. I didn't realize I had transformed until I found myself veering left and right across the terrain, dragging my utility arm across the ground. I hated my inability to move in a straight line, but I was eventually able to maintain a set direction.

I continued south and dared not stop; for fear that someone would find me. I didn't even stop to recharge, I just kept rolling. I must have traveled for at least a full stellar cycle before I found it. There were no humans for miles, and right in front of me was a seemingly endless forest. The trees reminded me of the condemned structures that I used to demolish for a living. I drove deeper into the trees, occasionally removing one from my path and watching it topple to the ground. And when I was no longer able to see the edge, I transformed. A cacophony of sounds came at me from every direction, and there were trees everywhere. Toppling another of the wooden pillars, I thought to myself '_It may not be the perfect life I had on Cybertron, but it will suffice.'_

I've been living in this place for almost a year. A layer of organic plant life has spread over my exterior, my former sandy color now a deep green. At first I considered it parasitic, but it grew on me over time. I recently discovered a small population of humans living nearby. They are noticeably more primitive than others that I have encountered, and I seriously doubt that they would have the destructive power necessary to do me any harm. At the moment I'm driving toward a small lake, where I have constructed a makeshift living space from the trees that I have toppled. I take the utmost pride in the shelter, as it marks the first time in my life that I have ever taken part in a building's actual construction. The dwelling is homage to my brothers, rest their sparks. Even if Scrapper, Mixmaster, Long Haul, Hook, and Scavenger are dead, and Devastator will never rise again, I will continue their legacy until the day my spark is extinguished. I can also locate the stump of every tree that I used to construct it, and have carved portraits of myself, and my brothers into the stump; the faces are arranged in a circle, with a portrait of Devastator in the center. I have carved more detailed portraits into the wall of my shelter, beside the area where I recharge during the night. It may not be the masterpiece that we once promised each other we would build, but it's my home;_our_ home.

As I near the entrance, I notice something there that shouldn't be; one of the humans has discovered my shelter. It carries primitive weapons; a spear in one hand and a small blade is tied to its midsection. It has discovered the portraits on the wall, and appears to be too preoccupied with my brothers' faces to notice my approach. I didn't want to be discovered, but perhaps I can have a little fun with this one...I stop moving, enjoying the natural camouflage that my organic cover has granted me, and remain motionless for several minutes. When the human lets its guard down, I carefully extend my utility arm toward it, and allow one of the claws to gently brush against its shoulder. The response is immediate; as the human cries out and spins to fend off its aggressor, brandishing the spear in a defensive posture, it is obviously frightened. Gradually, I retract the appendage, and roll into the shelter, stopping in front of the human and gauging its reaction. Its eyes dart all over the place, unsure whether to focus on me or my utility arm. I can't help but think that the situation should be in some kind of entertainment file. '_The suspense builds up, and now for the grand finale._' As I transform, the human's expression changes from frightened, to downright terrified. Unable to resist, I slowly extend my tail to its full length and thrust it toward the human, snapping the claw shut inches from its face. It quickly flees from my shelter, its screams louder than I thought possible from a human, and I can't stop laughing. I realize that it will tell its fellows about what it saw, but I doubt they'll listen.


End file.
